#AF DC

[deadsetobsessions]

Summonings

Ever since Danny Phantom became the Ghost King, he’s had to deal with an endless amount of crap. An eternity of it, actually, and it was constantly causing him unending amount of existential crises and stress.

First, there was the paperwork. Pariah Dark, the incompetent asshole, had left him decades worth of bureaucracy to painfully sift through. He ended up hiring some ghosts with paperwork obsessions to sort some of that out. Who knew ruling the infinite realms would require this much paperwork? He’s lucky each section of the underworld had their own systems to report to their own rulers who, in turn, report to him.

Secondly, there were the Observers. And other ghosts, like his own rogues, but they were the main issues. Eyeball menaces. They protested his appointment, something he actually agreed with. Putting a fifteen year old on the throne is rarely a smart decision. But the Infinite Realm values strength, the only type of currency that matters in the land of the gods and the dead. Danny? Phantom? He’s got strength in spades. With only a few months of being a ghost, Danny had managed to defeat Pariah Dark, who had cowered gods and struck fear into the hearts of ghost heroes.

But Danny hasn’t quite realized the significance of that yet, too focused on the realization that he was about to be in charge of the infinite realms. The Observants, since his reluctant and extremely limited coronation, has been up his ass about doing things the “proper way.”

Danny’s main problem lies with the ridiculous amount of paperwork though. It’s fine. Tedious. But fine.

But if he gets one more fifteen page essay style complaint form about some guy named Constantine, Danny might seriously reconsider donning Dan’s ruthlessness and offing the guy himself. Perhaps grab the man by his shoulders and shake him like a rag doll and ask who the fuck told him it was a good idea to sell his soul out like that? Danny eventually just sent out Skulker to hunt down the contracts and trade minor services for them. He owns most of the soul now, and perhaps he’ll hunt this guy down and force him to do paperwork.

Regardless, paperwork was just often tedious. He’s worked out a system for himself. The halfa, true to his teenage form, had better things to be doing. His homework, for one. Hanging out with his friends and logging in hours for Doomed 2 would be another. But no, he’s here, twirling a pen as he glared down at a stack of forms for a zone expansion. What the fuck does Zeus want to expand his zone for? The current share space of the sky domain is literally a perfect balance with respect towards the other gods. For the love of- Danny slams down a red ‘REJECTED’ stamp on top of the stack. His hair flickers wildly in annoyance, the iced over Crown floating above his head emitting concerning levels of frost. To anyone else but himself, of course.

He then feels a soft tug on his core.

Right. The third most annoying thing about becoming King: the fucking summoning. Danny taps his pen against his lips, clicking it against his fangs, as he considers the summoning circle that calls him. Huh. Desperation. Mildly bloody. Fear. Resignation- ah, fuck it, it’s not like he’s too enthusiastic about staying to do work with the Observers poking around. He takes the summoning, allowing his regalia to overtake his normal hazmat-clad form, and approves the summoning.

Oh hey, Danny thinks he recognizes that ugly ass trenchcoat.

—-

John Constantine has had more than enough practice summoning things that would give people nightmares. But there are things he normally refuses to touch, refuses to even entertain the idea of trying. As usual, desperation made John its bitch and the Justice League’s battered and bruised faces tugged on his shriveled heart.

He’s going to summon something from the Infinite Realms. Oh, but he wasn’t just summoning any old ghost. No, he thought, I’m just going to summon the one being that’s guaranteed to be able to crush our universe without breaking a sweat. Bollocks.

“Is it ready?”

“Untwist your pants, spooky,” John snaps, wishing he had a crate of whiskey he could down. “We’re trying to summon the Ghost King, not your average demon.”

“What do we know about him?” Batman’s gravelly voice demanded.

“Powerful enough to take us all out without even breaking a sweat. Defeated the bloody tyrant who ruled over the Realms last I heard.”

“That’s it?”

“You could ask Deadman, but I heard he’s on the outs with the Infinite Realms on the fact that he’s made of pure magic, not ectoplasm.”

“There’s no guarantee the king will work with us.” Zatanna says, pressing her fingertips together tiredly. She had been at the forefront of the battle and had paid the price for it. “But he’s supposedly more benevolent than his predecessor… and we’re out of options.”

“Hm.”

“Just make sure to shut up and let me do the talking.”

“Hn.”

John rolls his eyes and takes a fortifying breath, something that does not go unnoticed by the League. They all tense up, preparing themselves for a battle. Another one, seeing as they all got their ass kicked by a ghost only ten hours ago. The League is spread thin, running interference to distract the ghost in question and evacuating civilians.

John Constantine started chanting, the glow of his magic lighting up the circle as he spills his blood into the circle.

He waits, heart in his throat, for the summoning to work.

“Is it supposed to take-” Red Robin asks, only to cut himself off as the circle flares once more. Power pulsates outwards from the circle. Frost crackles on the frost resistant floors, spreading outwards as a green portal rips open the fabric of time and space. Long, spindly imitations of a hand grabs the edges of space and pulls, heaving the rest of his celestial body out of the tear in reality. John does not look away. He can not look away, not from the eerie green pallor of the King, not from his torrential white wisps of hair, not from the black-hole like material of his outfit, not from the nebulas and beginnings and endings tailored onto the King’s cape. John could not look away from the ice crown that floated like a bastion of power above the king’s head.

His mouth is dry. What price will he have to pay to save the world? What price will this being demand of him, of the Justice League, to save the world?

John desperately needs that drink.

—-

Oh! He’s in his home dimension! His core purrs at coming home, at the close proximity to his first haunt.

He was expecting cultists, or even the Winchesters again, but this is nice.

The Justice League- summoning him. Sam and Tucker are going to flip when they hear about this.

They’ve been staring at him in silence for a bit now. It was getting awkward.

“Why have you summoned me?” He asks, softening his tone. By their winces, he didn’t get it as well as he thought. Danny grimaces. At the first sign of discomfort though, the man in the trenchcoat- is that fucking Constantine?!- launches into a nerve filled tirade.

“Your, uh, Majesty.” He starts. “One of… One of your subjects is wreaking havoc on the world. We would be extremely grateful if… if you could reign him in?”

Danny’s face sours, only to quickly clear his expression as he realized how much even a small hint of displeasure causes the jumpiness in Constantine and the others.

“To do that, I will have to make a contract with you, seeing as you’ve summoned me.” Danny drawls, letting his overly long digits wave at the summoning circle in question. He could break it, of course, but Danny’s bored and trying to draw this out. He’s not saying he’d take a batch of cookies as payment but that’s exactly what he’s saying.

“The price… you could always have my soul?”

Danny pauses. “Your… soul?”

Oh, he did not say what he just said.

“Yes. My soul.”

Oh, he did.

Fuck it. Danny’s flashbacks of suffering through the reports pushes green into his irises and urgency to his action.

He breaks out of the circle, hands lunging and gripping Constantine’s jaw tightly. Danny ignores the shouts of alarm as he allows the thrown weapons to pass through him.

John Constantine is panicking now, struggling in the air as Danny lifts him an inch off the floor in agitation.

Good.

“Your soul, little wizard? The one you’ve split eight ways till the thirtieth of February? The one that caused,” he tightens his grip, no doubt bruising the man. “An insane amount of paperwork that I’ve had to suffer through. Your soul, John Constantine?”

Danny hisses his name. The man makes a warbling noise that Danny takes as acknowledgement. Danny bats away the weak spell Zatanna sends at him with a hand.

“You’ll find that I am in the possession of most of your soul contracts. To simply put,” he grins, teeth made of dying stars on display. “I own your soul. My soul, now.”

He drops the wizard who collapses onto his knees to stare up at him in horror, eyes flicking between the circle that was meant to contain him and Danny, who is very much not contained. He crouches down- something necessary but disjointed as he’s not used to this taller form- and speaks to Constantine in a slow, dead serious, drawl.

“If you ever sell your soul again, you and I are going to have issues. Is that clear, John Constantine?”

“Uh- yeah, yes, yes, your majesty.”

Patting his cheek condescendingly, Danny gets up and sighs, stress relieved. He’s starting to feel bad, though, so he allows his form to ripple back to his normal teenage Phantom self.

“Well, it’s not like anyone will buy it, since they know they’ll have to go against me.” He chirps, flipping 180 from his terror inducing eldritch voice. “So, what’ll you pay me to get rid of whatever ghost you’ve got?”

“…. Nothing?”

Red Robin holds out a bag, eyebags betraying his exhaustion. “I’ve got fifty dollars and a bag of cookies.”

Phantom beams at him. “Throw in a couple of autographs and you’ve got a deal.”

“That’s- yeah, okay.” Red Robin says, inching forward cautiously to hand him the bag.

“Great. I’ll be back for them later. You can call me Phantom. ‘Your Majesty’ gets annoying after a while.”

“Thank- thank you for your mercy, Your- Phantom.” Wonder Woman says.

“Sure. Make sure this idiot doesn’t make any more deals with demons while I’m out, yeah?”

With that, Danny Phantom grabs the bag of cookies and fifty dollars and flies through the wall to do his job.

John slams his head onto the space station floor.

“Fuck.”

—-

Danny: lol I’ll do it for the shits and giggles

Constantine and the League: he’s terrifying, a bastion of pure power and authority

Red Robin, Young “we commit war crimes bc it gets shit done” Justice leader and fellow gremlin: he’d probably do it for cookies. I would.

[tea-is-absolutely-mandatory]

I was going to say something but it's honestly just funnier to try and guess what they're talking about

[batcavescolony]

I like fanon and I can enjoy it but like with all those "Tim Drake, the poor little wet cat, gets thrown into another universe and he's adopted cus no one in his universe loves him 🥺" fics are cool and all but it be more canon complaint I'd have to be like "Tim Drake goes through the multiverse to get a moment alone cus he's got so many people that are around him 24/7" he's got super friends, he's got civilian friends, he's got villain friends, he's got villains that are interested in him, he's got bats and other related heros. He'd willing jump into a portal to another universe to get some time to work on a project or something.

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 192

Danny feels exhausted. His stupid ghost-puberty is annoying, and is affecting even his human form. Which wouldn’t be that bad, except for the fact that instead of having a simple elemental or obsession core, he happens to have a Space one. Technically the Space Core seeing as apparently he’s the newborn Ancient of Space. Or something. 

Urgh, he just wants to get some food from the dollar store down the street, not deal with whatever attempted mugging this is. He’s hangry, and just wants to get some food and curl back up in his mass of blankets back in his tiny apartment. 

So maybe he overreacted. He might have released his very careful hold on his less-than human traits that have been attempting to leak through the last several weeks. On the bright side, he, uh, isn’t hungry anymore and is now back in his nest of blankets. 

On the other hand, there is now a vigilante in his window. 

[kettlefire]

I had to share this

[foolsocracy]

he forgot about UV

[dragonpyre]

I’m a bio!kid Jason Todd truther. But in the sense that neither of them realize it. But literally everyone who’s ever met them is like “yeah he looks a loooooot like Bruce”

[littlefankingdom]

~ Batman (2016)

Oh, they're so brothers.

[on-lock-down]

THEY GAVE HIM A MAGICAL GIRL TRANSFORMATION!!!

[radiance1]

Gotham: Holy shit there's a random animal running around Gotham city and no one's ever caught it before. They say it only appears in thunderstorms and anyone unfortunate enough to cross paths with it look as if they've been hit by thunder.

Dan phantom, the 'random animal' who is in fact a Raiju in question: If I destroy this place I'll be fucked over by Clockwork. But if I don't destroy this place I'll keep being followed by this brat.

Damian Wayne, the brat in question: There is an animal roaming Gotham in thunderstorms, father. We must save it!

[emo-batboy]

A Wild Battinson (Social Media AU)

Part 10 (Masterlist)

(Part 11)

@bruciemilf THERE’S MORE BESTIE

[iguessthisisanewobsession]

On the outskirts of Gotham a farm is made.

No one can pinpoint when it was started but it was clearly bountiful.

New orchards of plums apples and several other fruit whisper promises of fruits in the years to come.

Bee houses buzzed with life and ducks quacked and scurried to and from their pond, coop and the garden.

Vegetables by the rows with seasonal berries brushes spring up at the corners of the property.

Greenery that almost seemed to glow with how lush it was.

It was like a small oasis in the desert of Gotham’s dirty land.

And it was ran by only three people.

The woman’s name was Sam. She was known as an activist who seemed to do the primary care of the plants. The property was in her name and she went out of her way to invite people to take what they need.

Danny was the most well known of the trio. He brought the produce into the heart of the city. Anywhere that would take the food, kitchens, pantries, school cafeterias even people’s doorsteps.

Tucker was the technical mastermind, hidden but equally important. The sprinklers, planning of the pollination rotation, harvesting planning and statistics were his main focus on the farm. Not a single square inch of the the land was not under his watchful gaze.

All the food was fresh or properly stored and most interesting of all free.

Of course people were going to talk.

[stars-obsession-pit]

Danny Phantom was not used to fighting magic users. Ghosts, yes. But humans with powers? No.

So when a cult managed to successfully summon and bind him, he lacked the knowledge of how to stop them.

And they tore him apart.

His core was broken into pieces, each one then implanted into one of the most loyal cult members (or potentially sold off to another person to use…) to grant them a portion of Phantom’s many powers.

However, the cult didn’t entirely know what they were doing either. You see, it turns out that shattering Danny’s core in that manner didn’t truly end him. His soul still persisted, still refused to die even as it was trapped amongst the disparate shards. Though each individual piece lacked the strength of mind or power to affect their hosts, they would gradually forge themselves together anew should they ever be gathered back together.

And after Red Hood killed several of the cult’s members, that process began. Their shards, now freed, transferred to the vigilante, instinctively latching onto his proto-core. Though still not yet whole enough to form a truly conscious fragment of Danny, they are enough to start to nudge Hood in the right direction (bolstered in effectiveness by Jason’s connection to death)

Jason can feel it deep within his soul. There’s something more to this cult’s powers than just normal magic, and he has a growing need to find out what that is. To stop them. To burn them all down and dig their secrets from the ashes.

[puppetmaster13u]

You know what I need to write? Ex-Talon Dick mentioning some stuff idly to his teammates or the league or whoever about how he can't feel certain things or getting up from definitely lethal injuries all fine. And then Jason 'joking' about the time he got beaten to death and blown up, or the time Batman "died" (was in the timestream) and the people connecting the dots.

The batclan are all different types of immortals.

They've connected the dots!

They haven't connected shit.

[nostalgic-films]

The only way to save this beautiful marble is to get rid of all of us. Every one of us. Even me. Because there is only one person who deserves all of this beauty. And that's you. - Poison Ivy #1 (2022)

[dr11ft]

back from the dead